'I'm not a queer', Steve thinks when Billy pushes his cock all the way inside.
He's not a queer because before he met Billy he has not even kissed another guy and he has always enjoyed having sex with girls. Right now he's just experimenting, it's nothing serious. And he can still say that he didn't like it afterwards.
After Billy made him moan like a pornstar and beg for his cock like a cheap whore.
But Steve doesn't like it.
Doesn't like the way Billy's grinning down at him right now, all smug and hot, sweaty curls sticking to his forehead.
He looks like an angel and Steve doesn't like it, so he grabs him by the nape of his neck and pulls him down for a kiss. Just so he doesn't have to see Billy like this anymore.
Because Steve's not a queer.
He doesn't like it when Billy hits that one spot inside of him, that makes his eyes roll back in his head. He doesn't like that the feeling of being stretched open on Billy's cock makes him squirm and whine because he feels so full. So complete.
But he hates Billy, actually.
Hates him so much that he's leaving ugly red scratch marks on his tanned back, that will look absolutely terrible tomorrow morning when he has to go back to the public pool.
Hates him so much that he's burying his fingernails in the flesh of Billy's hips which will surely leave half-moon shaped marks. Because he wants to keep Billy close. Wants his dick even deeper inside of him. Wants Billy to fuck him harder.
He presses on more kiss to Steve's open mouth before he straightens his back. He grabs Steve's thighs, spreads his legs even wider and increases the pace of his thrusts. Steve moans, in protests of course, and grabs the bedsheets with both hands, because Billy fucks like an animal and Steve thinks he's going to pass out.
He doesn't like it when Billy calls him his 'good boy'. Doesn't like how warm it makes him feel. Doesn't like it when Billy tells him how pretty he looks right now. How well he's taking his cock. How perfect he is for him.
Steve's going to come like that.
Billy hasn't even touched his dick yet but he's going to come. Can feel his orgasm on the tip of his tongue.
He reaches out and puts a hand on Billy's left pec. He lets his hand travel down to Billy's toned stomach where he can feel his muscles working under the warm skin.
Steve's not into guys but Billy keeps hitting that one spot perfectly and fuck! Fuck fuck fuck!!
Says a few things he's not proud of. Does a few things he's going to regret for the rest of his life.
And when he comes, it's hot and loud and intense.
It makes Billy groan. Makes him slam his cock so deep inside, Steve thinks he can feel it in his throat. And then he feels something warm filling him up and it makes his already spent cock twitch.
Steve doesn't like it when Billy pulls out and he suddenly feels a kind of emptiness he has never felt before.
He doesn't like the feeling of cum dripping down his thighs. Billy's cum.
He flops down on the bed next to Steve. Breathing heavily. One arm covering half of his face.
He looks as tired as Steve feels.
Steve isn't a queer and he doesn't like Billy but he doesn't say anything when Billy's drifting off to sleep in his bed. Doesn't wake him up. Doesn't kick him out.
He grabs the blanket to cover both of their naked bodies. Has to move closer to Billy, so they both fit, he tells himself. So close that his head is resting on Billy's chest.
Billy's heart's beating fast. Like he ran a marathon. Steve wonders if his own heart is beating as rapidly when Billy carefully puts an arm around him, keeping him close.
He doesn't really care because he doesn't like Billy. And he doesn't like guys. Not in that way, at least.
And maybe that's alright.
He doesn't have to be queer to enjoy another person's warmth. Doesn't have to be queer to like being held. Doesn't have to be queer to like the feeling of Billy's soft cock against his thigh.
Okay, maybe he's a little queer.
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